


day drinking: 75% effective

by fiveyaaas



Series: under mistletoe [10]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Married Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyaaas/pseuds/fiveyaaas
Summary: She’d started writing again, and he’d never realized how uncomfortable his life had been before until he was drinking coffee on the couch, flipping through novels that he’d never been able to find in the wasteland he’d lived in, listening to the clicking sounds of her typewriter. He’d never even really considered his comfort before, but having a life that was calm and content had quickly become addictive.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Series: under mistletoe [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036878
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35
Collections: Harcest Ficmas 2020





	day drinking: 75% effective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maddiemiran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddiemiran/gifts).



Vanya closed her mouth around a bottle of wine, and Five commented, “You realize that won’t actually warm you, right?”

“It’s a matter of principle,” she slurred. “And boredom.” 

He shrugged, grabbing the bottle and taking a drink. Frowning, he asked, “Why is this thing so comically large?”

“It’s a Nebuchadnezzar.” 

“I refuse to believe that’s a real thing.”

“It is, look it up.”

She leaned against his neck, “If I drink any more, I will throw up.”

“Then don’t drink anymore, dear.” 

“There’s nothing to do here! We have no electricity! I gotta get drunk.” 

He frowned at his wife, “There’s plenty of things to do.”

“I’m not trying weird sex stuff when I’m cold, Five.” 

“I did offer to take us to a hotel in a city that had power,” he pointed out, pulling her into his lap. “C’mon, I’m getting you something to eat.”

She lay back against him contentedly, starting to fall asleep. “Don’t wanna eat.” 

His eyebrows rose in amusement. “You know you’ll get a stomach ache if you don’t, right?”

“No, I won’t, I promise.” 

Stifling laughter, he carried her to the small kitchen in their home. They’d built a home far enough away from any major towns that she could train with her powers in peace, having a weekly dinner with their family in the city. She’d started writing again, and he’d never realized how uncomfortable his life had been before until he was drinking coffee on the couch, flipping through novels that he’d never been able to find in the wasteland he’d lived in, listening to the clicking sounds of her typewriter. He’d never even really considered his comfort before, but having a life that was calm and content had quickly become addictive. 

“If you eat a little bit and drink some water, I’ll watch that stupid serial killer movie with you.”

“It’s  _ not  _ stupid.” 

“Oh, trust me, it’s stupid. And also it felt like the overlying message was that being a serial killer is a good thing.”

“It wasn’t!” 

“I feel like the director just wanted to fuck Ted Bundy.” 

“It was a good film!”

“I mean if you looked past the fact that you could practically hear the sounds of the director fantasizing about getting railed by Bundy.” 

“I feel like you’re ex…” She blinked, trying again. “Exaggerating.” 

“He was practically deepthroating-” He paused to laugh when her face got all pinched, the blush from alcohol painting her cheeks red. “Okay, fine,  _ if  _ you eat, I’ll watch the serial killer fetish film. And! I won’t even complain the entire time.”

(When they watched it four days later, he complained  _ most  _ of the time, technically not breaking the agreement.)

As Vanya chewed at the sandwich he made her, he read through the most recent draft of her manuscript, holding her hand while he did in hopes that it would make her stop crying about bread, having gotten sober enough that she was just deeply emotional about everything she put the slightest focus on (thankfully, she tended to be terrible at focusing on most things when inebriated). “I have a question about this chapter,” Five told her, glancing up and immediately blinking over to her side of the table when he saw the adorable scrunched up expression on her face, realizing she’d probably drank a  _ little  _ more than he thought. Trying not to sound patronizing, he asked lightly, “What’s wrong, V?” 

“The crusts… on the  _ sandwich _ ,” she sniffled. 

“Absolutely, makes perfect sense. I agree.” 

“You  _ do?” _

“Oh, absolutely. The  _ crusts,  _ on the  _ sandwich.”  _ He waved his hand around, like this was supposed to mean something, and it obviously did to her drunk ass because she started nodding like he had just offered her a Nobel Prize winning idea. 

“You’re so smart,” she mumbled, and he couldn’t help but laugh at that, wordlessly handing her the cup of water by her plate and blinking over to the medicine cabinet to grab a few acetaminophen in hopes it would stave off a hangover. She guzzled it down before announcing that she wanted to take a nap, which he agreed to without complaint, bringing the manuscript with him when he carried her to their bedroom and settled her against a lot of pillows, setting a trash can near her before he sat down. 

She curled up to his side, and he kissed the top of her head, thumbing to where he’d stopped before, writing down his questions on sticky notes instead of asking them directly. When he heard her lightly snoring beside him, he smiled contentedly, combing through her hair with his fingers for something to keep his hands busy. 

For the next several hours, she slept. When he finished paging through, he reached for the book on his nightstand- some depressing and overly descriptive novel that Vanya and Ben kept insisting he read. It wasn’t awful, but he actually had a preference for sweet, light stories which vexed every person who’d ever had a conversation with him, apparently. Every time Vanya caught him reading the ‘bland, meet-cute romances that only lonely people actually enjoyed,’ Five pointed out that she voluntarily consumed all media related to serial killers. Ben had pointed out once that their choices in books reflected their taste in people, which Five felt was unfair because while, yes, he was with the love of his life who he’d been best friends with since he was young, she also killed 7.5 billion people.  _ Also,  _ Five became a killer through necessity, not enjoyment. 

“Do you like it?” He marked the place he was reading, setting it on his nightstand. “Or can you not read dystopian novels without an inappropriately handled love triangle?” 

“It would have never worked out between her and Gale!” 

“The fact that you knew exactly what I was referencing is unsettling.”

“Yeah, well, the love triangle wasn’t even really a thing, it was a desperate move to make the Capitol citizens sympathetic to her that was then used as a way to manipulate and control her. Ironically, focusing on the love triangle itself defeats the entire purpose.” 

“Yeah, but Peeta was  _ whiny.” _

“You’re a dick.” 

She giggled, resting her head on his chest. 

“Do you have a headache or anything?”

“No, and thank you for convincing me to take some Tylenol. Also, I think It’ll be dark soon. Should we light some candles?”

“Yeah, let’s do that. You’re sure you don’t want to just get a hotel, though? It might be easier in the morning, and also you get cold easily.” 

“I can manage not having power for a little bit. Unless it bothers you.”

He shrugged, “I managed a few decades without it, I’ll be okay as long as you’re comfortable.” 

She nodded, yawning, “Do you care if I go back to sleep, though? I’m still tired.” 

“Not at all, go to sleep.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading💕💕💕💕


End file.
